


Somehere Only We Know

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:18:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver and Felicity find themselves seeking each other out when they need someone to lean on.  Their friendship begins to grow, lines being blurred between friendship and something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr at hopedreamlovepray.tumblr.com

It had been a long two days. 

Felicity sat curled up on her couch in her favorite hoodie and boxer shorts intently watching the news. The male news reporter talked animatedly about the attempted murder of Helena’s father the night before at an FBI safe house - the safe house that _she_ had found for the troubled young woman.

Her glass of wine sat completely forgotten on the coffee table as she listened, absorbed in the news of something she had unwillingly helped create. Three men were dead, three others in the hospital with critical wounds - one of them, Detective McKenna Hall - Oliver’s girlfriend.

She had tried calling Oliver the night before when she and Diggle sat in the Foundry watching everything go down as she hacked into the FBI’s scanners and airwaves. Her stomach had heaved every time she heard a body count. 

It wasn’t her fault. She knew that, logically, it wasn’t her fault. She’d believed Oliver when he told her just that after rescuing her from her bonds on the floor of her office. But a small piece of her couldn’t help the guilt she felt. She had played a role in this regardless of if her participation was under duress - a crossbow pointed at her head.

Most of her thoughts, however, were focused on Oliver. He hadn’t shown up back at the Foundry before Diggle finally insisted on taking her home. He hadn’t replied to her texts or returned her message she’d left for him early that morning. Digg told her that he would be okay, and she knew he would - she just found herself worrying about him more and more over the past few months that she had been working with him. Now that she knew who he was and what he did - the danger element in her life had skyrocketed and right along with it came her growing worry for a man she didn’t even know seven months ago.

Half of the time she wanted to smack him with his own bow for the way he made her worry. She already had enough to agonize over with Walter’s disappearance, she didn’t need to add him to her list as well. 

Caring for a man like Oliver Queen would only get her hurt. 

She did it anyway.

A knock on her door sent her jumping into the air, and she had to scold herself for the nerves that had plagued her since her run in with Helena.

Padding over to the door, she peaked through the peep hole and quickly undid the locks when she saw Oliver standing on the other side.

Wrenching the door open, she took in his haggard appearance. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his eyes were weary, and dark circles were apparent even in the shadows cast by the dim lighting of the hallway.

He glanced up at her, his expression a mix of guilt, apprehension, and exhaustion. She didn’t hesitate to open her door further and usher him in without a single word spoken.

She closed and locked the door behind him, turning to look at him questioningly. He quickly glanced around her apartment before finding her eyes again and opening his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“Oliver?” she finally whispered, and that seemed to break him out of his stupor.

“Felicity...” he sighed, taking a few steps toward her. “How are you?” The concern in his voice was genuine and she smiled softly wanting to alleviate some of that worry.

“I’m fine, Oliver,” she responded quickly. “You, on the other hand, look horrible.”

He let out a gruff snort, but his lips curved upward.

Felicity cringed when she heard what she'd said, “I’m sorry. That was blunt. Not that you don’t look good because well you always look good, it’s just you look tired and like you haven’t seen a bed in a few days...”

Her face burned when she realized she’d only added to her embarrassment, and instead of waiting for his reply, she darted past him and into the kitchen area, pouring him a glass of her red wine.

She heard him approach her as she finished and she almost dropped the bottle when she felt his fingers brush against her wrist. Looking down she noticed he was caressing the area that was still a bit red and bruised from the ties that Helena had wrapped tightly around her skin.

Shakily, she set the bottle back on the counter and turned to face him, finding him much closer than she expected. 

“Felicity...” he began softly, his eyes finally reaching hers after she grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. She'd never seen him quite like this. He seemed almost hesitant, quiet - not the commanding presence she was used to.

She held on to his hand, running her fingers over his knuckles soothingly, “It’s not your fault, Oliver...despite the fact that you actually dated her once...” she rolled her eyes, trying to ease some of the tension. But when she saw it wasn’t working, she tried a different tactic.

“Hey, you came, right? I’m fine. I promise.”

“But I should have been there before. I should have know she would come to you after she found out you could hack the FBI database,” he sighed, scrubbing his free hand across his face, his stubble longer than usual, and Felicity found her thoughts straying to how it would feel against her fingers.

“You have no idea how terrified I was when I heard Helena’s voice in the background of your message...”

Oliver let out a long sigh and Felicity’s heart fluttered at the concern for her.

“I’ve been doing a pretty lousy job of keeping the people I care about safe,” he added, angrily. A spark of something flashed through his eyes. It was the first glance of the usual Oliver Queen that she’d seen tonight.

“You’re doing the best you can, Oliver,” Felicity replied, tugging on his hand and leading him over to the couch. “I mean, you’re only trying to balance your regular life, run a club, be there for your family, and be The Hood at the same time...clowns would have trouble juggling that many things...”

He frowned at her, his brow crinkling in a way that made Felicity smile as he tried to follow her train of thought.

Shaking his head, he sank down into the couch cushions and gratefully accepted the glass of wine Felicity handed to him before joining him, making sure to put a bit of space between them.

A voice from the television reporting on the condition of Detective Hall caused Oliver to tense and Felicity quickly reached for the remote, silencing it.

“How is she?” Felicity asked quietly, taking a sip of her wine.

Oliver grimaced and ran his hand through his hair, “She’s going to be fine, but she’s got a shattered femur.”

Felicity’s eyes widened, “That’s a lot of rehab...” she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow at her sudden medical knowledge and she just shrugged, “I have a lot of useless facts up here,” she said, pointing to her head. “Don’t ask me how I remember the things I read sometimes...I just do...”

Nodding, Oliver continued, “She’s going to go live with her sister in Coast City so she can go to the best rehab facility in the country...”

Realizing that this meant she was leaving town, Felicity found herself reaching out to cover his hand with her own once more, “I’m sorry, Oliver. I know how much you...cared for her.”

Those words were harder to say than she thought they would be for some reason, but she brushed it off, ignoring the odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.

He smiled sadly. “It was never going to work.”

Felicity cocked her head to the side, and Oliver pinned her with a knowing look. “Come on, you and Diggle only told me how many times that dating the cop that was trying to hunt me down wasn’t a good idea.”

Feeling a twinge of remorse, Felicity tightened her grip on his hand, “Yeah, but you really did care for her.”

Oliver took a deep breath, and nodded. “Except I could never be myself with her. I was always lying or apologizing, or both.”

“I’m not exactly an expert in the dating department,” Felicity began, wondering where her mouth was going to take her this time, but unable to stop the flow of words to try and comfort this man who had become a very good friend in such a short amount of time, “but those are two things that probably shouldn’t happen a lot in a relationship. You’ll find someone who will accept you for everything you are, and then you won’t have to lie or apologize to them for being yourself.”

When she looked up, she found him staring at her intently. Her cheeks flushed and she cleared her throat, wondering if she said something she shouldn’t have. Realizing her hand was still covering his, she quickly removed it and stood, needing to do something because she wasn’t sure she could stand the intensity of his gaze for much longer.

As soon as she stood, she felt a hand on her wrist and glanced back at Oliver - his fingers warm against the her skin. 

“Thank you.”

The sincerity of his voice caused a flutter in her stomach, and she returned the smile he gave her before moving to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of wine. Her wrist burned where he’d touched just moments before and she tried to ignore the feelings rising within her.

After replenishing both of their glasses, she turned the television back on and flipped to Nick at Nite, thankful that FRIENDS was still on.

Oliver didn’t say anything but Felicity was comfortable in the silence that had settled between them. Joining him on the couch, she found herself chuckling at Joey and Chandler as they argued over the chair in Monica’s apartment.

“Chandler was always my favorite,” she murmured turning to look at Oliver who she found was watching her with a smile on his face.

“I always liked Monica,” he replied, his voice not much more than a murmur.

Felicity cocked an eyebrow at him in surprise, smiling.

A half and hour later, Felicity turned to comment on something that had happened only to find Oliver’s eyes closed and his chest rising and falling steadily. He was fast asleep, and actually looked peaceful.

Not sure what to do, she debated waking him or just letting him rest. Finally settling on the latter, she quickly dialed Diggle’s number, knowing he’d probably driven Oliver over to her place.

“Good,” was Diggle’s only reply when she told him. “The man needs it. Let him sleep, Felicity.”

“Diggle...” Felicity began hesitantly just as they were about to hang up, “Why did he come here tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Diggle responded, and she could hear the confusion in his voice.

“I mean, he could go anywhere, home to his family, or to work out at the Foundry or to Tommy...why did he come here...” It was a question she’d been asking herself since he’d shown up at her door. All she had been expecting was a phone call, not a visit followed by easy conversation. It wasn’t that she was un-happy he’d come, of course...

Diggle sighed, “He wanted to make sure you were okay, Felicity. And I think, maybe, he wanted to be somewhere that he didn’t have to pretend for one night...”

Letting those words sink in, Felicity smiled, before adding, “Next time you can come up too, you know.”

Diggle chuckled, “I had to take Carly home anyway,” he told her, “Plus, I wasn’t the one he wanted to see...”

“Goodnight, Felicity,” he said and he hung up quickly, leaving Felicity to wonder what he'd meant by his words.

Deciding she would think about it later, she plugged her phone into the charger and found a blanket to place over Oliver before making her way to her own bed and crawling under the covers, willing sleep to come easily.

***

A yell from the living room woke her, and she glanced at her clock before reaching to her bedside table for the taser hidden in the drawer. It was one more precaution she had invested in after Walter had been kidnapped.

Another shout from the other room fully woke her and she realized she recognized the voice as Oliver’s. 

Slipping from her bed, she ran into her main room and found Oliver thrashing around on the couch, sweat pouring down his face, as he fought off what sounded like a horrible nightmare. 

Approaching him carefully, she hesitantly reached out a hand to wake him. Her brain immediately told her this was not going to end well, but she needed to stop his cries that made her cringe at the desperation in his voice. 

She had barely touched his shoulder when she found herself being pulled down by two strong hands, Oliver’s full body weight covering her, and flattened her and pressing her down against the couch cushions.

“Oliver!” she cried, trying to wake him. His eyes blinked open, staring down at her. He shook his head, and she could see the confusion in his sleep-laden eyes.

“Oliver,” she repeated his name, this time softer, wanting to him to know he was safe.

A few seconds later, the fog completely cleared and his eyes widened in shock. He loosened his hold of her hands that were pinned above her head and scrambled backwards on the couch to the other end.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity waited as the shock wore off and she was able to think again. Her body tingled with the lingering feeling of Oliver’s body flush with hers. 

“Felicity...” He groaned shakily, hands covering his face. His voice was broken and frayed at the edges, and her heart ached for him.

She slowly sat up, brushing the hair that had come loose from her ponytail back over her shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” she reassured him. “I just didn’t know what to do...I figured that approach wouldn’t be the safest...but I also knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Oliver chuckled wryly, “I wish I had your confidence. When I’m lost in those dreams...there’s no telling what I will do. I put my own mother in a choke-hold the first night I was back from the island.”

Felicity shivered involuntarily, but something in her gut told her she was still safe with him.

“You’re back _there_.” She realized, her eyes finding his in the darkness of the room.

She didn’t need verbal confirmation to know she was right. The look on her face told her the truth. 

“I’ve had nightmare’s like that...not that I know what you went through on that island, but I’ve had those onrd where you just want to wake up and you can’t because you’re trapped and they just play your worst fear over and over until you almost can’t take it...”

Stopping, she took a deep breath, realizing she’d just blurted out something she hadn’t planned on telling anyone, especially not Oliver Queen.

“I should stop talking now...” she finished, jumping up off the couch and heading for the kitchen area. Filling two glasses with water, she returned to the couch, handing Oliver one while she took a long drink of the other.

She felt Oliver’s gaze on her, and glanced up at him. He was watching her with those eyes that she knew meant he was trying to read her; to figure out if he should say something or not.

“Your nightmares,” he finally began carefully, “when did they start?”

She blanched as he asked the question she hoped he wouldn’t. But it was her own fault for not keeping her mouth shut.

Trying to laugh it off, she shrugged her shoulders as she replied, “Oh, you know, right after I had a bomb collar strapped to my neck and your crazy ex-girlfriend held a crossbow to my head...”

The smile on her face was forced and she knew he could tell. His eyes narrowed at her before she saw the guilt flash through them.

“Felicity...” her name was a whispered plea from his lips and she dropped her smile, touching her fingertips to her neck where the collar had rested before realizing what she was doing and moved her hand back to her lap.

“I know what I signed up for,” she tried to tell him, but her voice sounded anything but convincing. “I mean, I guess I didn’t know exactly what I signed up for and I didn’t really sign anything, but you know what I mean...”

She took another breath looking up at him, wanting him to know she meant her next words, “I don’t regret my choice. And it’s not your fault.”

Oliver shook his head, eyes never leaving hers, “You really are remarkable, Felicity Smoak.”

Warmth spanned her cheeks, and she reprimanded herself for being so easily affected by his words.

“Once again, thank you for remarking,” she replied softly, smiling back at him. “You’re pretty remarkable yourself, you know.”

Oliver laughed at that. “No. No, I’m not.”

“Most people wouldn’t have survived what you have,” she told him seriously.

He smiled at her, a genuine Oliver Queen smile that made that warmth grow deep inside her. 

No words were spoken for several minutes before he scrubbed a hand over his face and began to stand. “I should go...”

“Why?” Felicity asked bluntly, frowning. “It’s 3 AM, Oliver.”

“And I fell asleep on your couch. Diggle...”

“Went home,” Felicity finished for him. “I called him. You don’t think I would let him sit downstairs waiting all night, do you?”

He let his shoulders fall again, but said nothing, still looking at the door. Felicity spoke up before he could come up with another reason.

“You might as well just stay unless you plan on walking home. You can call Diggle in the morning.” Her tone brooked no argument.

Oliver sank back down to the couch beside her. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping anymore tonight,” he told her quietly. “Usually don’t after those nightmares.”

Felicity nodded in understanding. “Then a movie it is.”

He looked at her then, a deep crease in his forehead as he wrinkled his brow, “No, you need to sleep. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Felicity just shrugged, glancing to the blank television in front of them. “Maybe you weren’t the only one glad to be woken up.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but she knew Oliver heard her. His hand found hers in the darkness and squeezed it tight.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“Do you?” she countered, knowing the answer before the shuttered look filtered across his face.

“Sorry,” she sighed not meaning to sound so defensive. “It’s just these dreams make me feel...weak. I’m good at what I do. Computers I can hack and defend, but myself...I couldn’t do anything to Helena. She always had the upper hand. Even the few things Diggle has taught me did nothing.”

Oliver let out a breath and suddenly he was in front of her, urging her to look at him with a finger under her chin. “What did she do to you?”

Felicity smiled sadly, “She used her words - exploited my weakness - apparently just like you taught her. She told me you are just using me like you used her because what else could someone like you see in an pathetic IT girl like me. That one day you wouldn't care what happened to me - that you'd betray me.”

She heard the sharp breath that Oliver sucked in and his hand clasped hers tightly. She let his warmth seep into her cold skin, suddenly wishing she had put on her pajama pants instead of just her boxer shorts.

“Felicity...” He started to apologize, but she stopped him. 

“Don’t,” she whispered fiercely. “If it’s not my fault, it’s not yours either. It happened. All we can do is move forward.”

She flipped on the tv, bathing them in the bluish glow from the screen. She felt his fingertips on her cheek before she realized she was crying. Dammit, she cursed internally, hating this display of weakness but not surprised. She hadn’t let herself think about what happened since that night...it was only a matter of time.

“She’s wrong.”

His voice was firm and gentle, but rough around the edges that hinted at the emotion he was holding back.

“Felicity, look at me,” he insisted, softly turning her fact to look at him. “You are good at what you do and, yes, I do need that skillset, but I could have chosen anyone. I chose you because you...you make me smile. You stand up to me when most people won’t, and you hold on to your beliefs. You’re stronger than you think. And there's a reason you were my last straw when it came to Helena. I will always protect you.”

By the time he was finished, his face was inches from hers and she sucked in a deep breath at the warmth of his breath against her cheek. Looking down, she allowed her forehead to rest against his, drawing strength and comfort from his presence. 

She knew what Helena said had been lies, but they had gnawed at her self-consciousness. Hearing Oliver’s words healed those cracks in her defenses and squashed down those internal fears that had been rising within her since that night.

Normally, she wasn’t the type of person to seek comfort from others, but there was something about Oliver that made her feel safe in his presence. If it was showing weakness, she decided, for a night, she could let down that guard, and curled up against the warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her.

A few months ago she wouldn’t have dared to do this - let herself be this way around him. At that point, he was simply an acquaintance, someone she helped with oddly suspicious computer issues. Even after she first learned his secret, she was hesitant around him. His moods could change in the blink of an eye and she was still learning about certain character traits of his including that he certainly did not have a sense of humor when it came to his outfit... 

But somehow, in the past few weeks, she’d let herself relax more around him. And she could feel and see the shift in his behavior too. He was slowly letting her in. Something had changed in that moment that she’d heard his voice calling out her name as she laid bound on the floor of her office. His fear was evident as was his concern the moment he’d untied her and brought his hand up to cradle her face. It was an intimate touch, something one did only when there was a certain level of affection and trust. It wasn’t a huge sweeping wave, but a subtle shift in their relationship. No longer were they simple acquaintances or co-workers. They had moved into the realm of friend and confidant. And it felt completely natural, she realized.

She felt Oliver still, for a moment, letting her settle against him, adjusting to the feel of her small frame tucked against his broad one. Soon, he relaxed back into the couch cushions, holding her tightly, and rubbing circles against her back while she grabbed the remote and began flipping through Netflix before deciding on an episode of The Office.

The theme song had barely begun to play before Felicity felt her eyelids grow heavy. The warmth and comfort from Oliver calmed her and let her relax, confident in the fact that she wouldn’t have anymore nightmares tonight.

She had just begun to drift off when she heard Oliver’s voice whisper softly against her ear. 

“Thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity seeks out Oliver after a rough night and a conversation with her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to hopedreamlovepray.tumblr.com
> 
> As always, I LOVE to hear what you think! Thanks for reading!

Her heels clicked down the metal stairs and into the dimly lit basement of Verdant. It was late and Oliver had given both her and Diggle the night off, stating he needed to show his face around the club tonight. 

Without Tommy around, more of the club responsibilities fell to Oliver and until he found a replacement, he would have to make the time to deal with them since the club was his cover for spending most of his time at the old factory.

 

At first, the prospect of a night to herself excited her; a chick flick and a tub of Haagan Daas topped off with a glass of wine sounded perfect.

 

And it was…until she got the phone call from her parents. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been happy to hear from them. She knew it had been too long since she’d made the three hour drive to see them. The problem was what she could and couldn’t tell them. Ever since joining Oliver and Diggle, she found she had to watch everything she said, including to her own parents.

 

The conversation flowed easily until her mother had brought up the vigilante - her parents worried about her safety constantly. She’d been raised in a small town, and the thought of their baby girl in a crowded city that had a crime rate continuously on the rise did not sit well with them.

 

They were the ones who had insisted she enroll in a self-defense class; and for the first week after she moved to Starling City, they’d called every night.

 

Felicity had tried to reassure them; after all, she’d joked, "The vigilante only seems to go after high-end, white collar criminals, and I haven’t embezzled in months."

 

But instead of laughing, her mother had sighed with worry. 

 

“But you’re being safe, right?” she’d asked. “You’re locking your doors and staying out of the bad parts of the city…”

 

It was then that Felicity’s stomach fell. She’d forced her voice to be as normal as possible as she’d assured them she was fine and safe. But her lie of omission gnawed at her.

 

After hanging up the phone, she’d paced the floor for twenty minutes. The walls seemed to be closing in around her as her mother’s voice echoed in her head, “We already lost your brother…we just…we can’t lose you too, sweetheart.”

 

It was too much. So Felicity fled, grabbing her tablet and her keys before finding herself in her car on the way to Verdant.

 

She frowned when she saw the familiar basement empty, the computer screens dark and the only sound coming from the thumping of music upstairs. It was odd to not be greeted by the sight of Oliver hanging from the salmon ladder or sparring with Diggle.

 

Her feet started for her chair at the computers. She was sure she could find something to occupy her mind with here. But, once again, she would be alone, with her thoughts and that was the last thing she wanted. The whole point of her coming here had been to talk to someone. It had been a slight surprise when the first person who came to her mind was Oliver. But she’d shrugged it off, reasoning with herself that he’d come to her one more than one occasion needing to get something that was bothering him off his chest.

 

Spinning on her heels, she raced back up the stairs and into the club.

 

The moment she stepped onto the main floor, she was thankful she hadn’t changed out of her work clothes. Although still underdressed, it was better than her Star Wars pajama bottoms and tank top that she usually wore when she had a movie night.

 

Bodies were everywhere, moving quickly to the beat of the music being pumped through the speakers. 

 

Felicity made her way toward the bar, seeing a familiar face in the young man behind it. He’d been the one Oliver had rescued from the crazy psycho who thought he was just like Oliver a few months back.

 

He greeted her with a smile, “What can I get you tonight, beautiful?”

 

Felicity almost laughed at his term of endearment. She could see why Oliver’s sister had fallen for the boy; he was definitely a charmer.

 

“Oh, nothing,” she replied, “Um, I’m actually looking for Ol…Mr. Queen.”

 

The young man frowned, and then realization dawned on his face, “Oh yeah, I knew you looked familiar. You work here too, don’t you?”

 

She just smiled nodding her head, “Yeah, I help with the website and some of the other tech issues.”

 

A knowing grin spread across the young man’s face and the leaned toward her, “Is he as much of a hard-ass on you as he is on the rest of us?”

 

Felicity’s eyebrows shot up at his question, and she found herself laughing as she imagined Oliver’s face upon hearing it. She shrugged her shoulders in response and gave a slight nod. “He’s got a lot of things on his plate,” she reasoned.

 

The boy who’s name tag read, “Roy,” spoke again. “Hey, you look like you could use a drink,” he said, motioning to the older man behind the bar, and quickly a shot glass filled with clear liquid was placed on the counter in front of her.

 

“Oh,” she said, starting to shake her head, “No. No. I don’t think…”

 

Roy just rolled his eyes, “Come on, it’s on the house, you’re an employee after all.”

 

Eyeing the glass, Felicity considered it for a moment, before picking up the glass and downing the contents. She gasped at the burning sensation that immediately followed, reminding her why she wasn’t a big fan of shots in the first place.

 

Roy just smiled at her, and then pointed to the other side of the room past the DJ booth and to the offices that lined the far wall. “Last I saw Mr. Queen, he was headed to his office.”

 

Felicity gave the boy a polite smile and quick thanks before making her way - a little more off-balance than she wanted - through the crowd of people to the other side of the room.

 

The music pounded in her ears and she could feel the slight affects of the alcohol by the time she’d made it halfway across the dance floor. Two hands grasped her waist and she gasped as she was forcibly turned around to find a tall stranger swaying toward her.

 

“Hey, baby,” he slurred, “Let’s dance.”

 

Felicity froze and fought the urge to knee him in the groin realizing she was in a club and he was obviously drunk. “No thanks,” she shrugged out of his hold and tried to continue on her way before his hand caught her wrist forcefully pulling her back. Memories flashed before her eyes and panic welled up within her. This was not happening again…

 

His hand tightened on her wrist and his eyes sparked with something dangerous. “I didn’t ask…” he grunted.

 

The next thing she knew, Oliver had stepped in front of her, blocking the man from his advance. She could tell by the tense set of his shoulders he was angry. His hand grasped the shoulder of the obviously inibrieted man who’d quickly dropped her wrist the second Oliver had laid a hand on him.

 

“The lady said ‘no,’” Oliver growled, signaling one of the bouncers and handing the drunk man off to them before turning back to her and catching her gaze.

 

She smiled at him in reassurance that she was okay. “Thanks,” she yelled over the crowd and he smiled.

 

His eyes slid over her and she knew he was seeing right through her fake smile to the tired and worried expression hidden underneath. Softening his gaze, he held out his hand to her and she grabbed it. Weaving easily through the hundreds of people, he led her off of the dance floor and back to the offices she’d been heading toward. Climbing a few steps, he held the door open to his “club” office. 

 

Felicity was amazed at how sound-proof his office was, the silence shocking to her ears which were still ringing from the pulsating music.

 

For the first time since she’d entered the club, she took a deep breath and let it out. She could feel Oliver’s gaze on her, and her lips curved upwards, despite the fatigue that she suddenly felt all over her body. How had she not realized how tired she was?

 

Of course, she remembered how little sleep she’d gotten the night before and shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts.

 

“What are you doing here, Felicity?” Oliver’s voice broke the stillness in the room, and she turned to look at him.

 

She shrugged, trying to put on a face of nonchalance as she ran her fingers over the sleeves of her cardigan, “What? A girl can’t come to the hottest club in town on her night off?”

 

The chuckle that fell from her lips was strained and she winced knowing he’d see right through her front.

 

“Felicity…” his voice was soft and low, and she shivered. She loved the way her name sounded on his lips.

 

She took a deep breath, “Fine,” she sighed, folding her arms defensively over her chest. “I guess…I mean, I just…I wanted someone…ugh,” she stomped, hating that she couldn’t get the right words out. Words were usually her strong suit. Normally, she had no problem saying anything and everything that came to mind.

 

“I just needed someone to talk to,” she blurted out finally, sliding her gaze to the ground, cheeks flushing at her admission. “You were the first person I thought of…but if you’re too busy, or, you know, don’t want to listen to my ramblings, it’s fine. I can just go. Actually, I probably should go. I mean, you obviously are busy with a club to run and I…”

 

Two strong hands landed on her upper arms, halting her words. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at him. 

 

“You know you can talk to me whenever you need, Felicity,” he said quietly, and she could tell by the look in his eyes he meant it. 

 

“You’ve helped me through more than one tough night,” he reminded her, and she smiled softly.

 

“Thanks,” she whispered.

 

“What’s wrong?” he urged, his thumbs rubbing circles on her arms and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from shivering at the feeling that ran through her at his touch. Warmth spread to her entire body and she found herself wanting to curl into his large frame knowing she would feel so safe in his arms.

 

She sighed, her whole body shuddering with the release of that one breath. Her day had been brutal and then the phone call - she’d almost ended up in tears more than once - but how could she let him see her like that? 

 

The sheer strength of his body and mind were an amazing feat. And, although, she knew he had walls of 5-inch concrete built around his own emotions, he’d let her see them in those silent moments in the Foundry after he’d cross out another name or when he'd shown up on her apartment door step, his heart cracking under the weight he carried, holding it out to her to put back together. Remembering these things, she realized she wasn’t afraid to let him see her like this, she knew she could trust him.

 

Now, she just had to figure out where to begin…

 

“I had a brother, you know,” she stated softly, glancing up momentarily, long enough to see the confusion and wonder on his face. 

 

Pulling herself away from him, she walked to the bank of windows that looked down onto the floor of the club. Her eyes drifted over the masses of bodies moving in rhythm to the steady, hypnotic beat. Closing her eyes, she could only hear the pounding of her own heart, and she took comfort from the sound as she continued. “He joined the Marines out of high school. His first tour of duty was in Iraq…he was my best friend and my worst enemy growing up,” she mused, swallowing a sob, “But I barely recognized the person who came back…”

 

Felicity paused, searching for her words carefully as she continued. “I see the same looks in your eyes sometimes. He would get lost in memories - nightmares - wake up screaming at unseen attackers. We tried to help him. Tried to get him to talk to us - to someone…”

 

Daring a glance back in Oliver’s direction, she caught the look of pain followed by sadness that swept over his features. His body was taut, every muscle tense beneath his clothes. He met her gaze and an understanding passed between them. She could see how much he wanted to reach out, but couldn’t…not now. This subject hit too close to home and he was barely hanging on.

 

_I talk to you._

 

His unspoken response was conveyed through his eyes. Those deep blue eyes reminded her so much of what she’d seen in her brothers, and, yet, Oliver was different. He’d let people in - if only a select few. He’d trusted her with so much and she was grateful for that. It dawned on her early on in their friendship, that she could do for him what she could never do for her brother.

 

“He went back,” Felicity finally continued, turning back to the windows and running her fingers along it's ledge- bright teal nails stark against the black, glinting in the flashing lights from the club. “We tried to talk him out of it. But he told us he was useless here, but, over there, he could still do something.”

 

She gulped in air, feeling Oliver’s steadfast gaze on her back as he listened in silence, “Two months before he was supposed to come home, we got the letter. Missing in Action. Presumed dead.”

 

Saying the words aloud was harder than she thought it would be even after all this time. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her fingers together against the tremble of her body.

 

“My parents,” she squeezed out, willing herself forward, “They never quite recovered.”

 

“When I finished college, my parents begged me to come home, but I couldn’t,” she told him quietly. “I was offered a job at your family’s company out of college and I had to accept. I’d worked so hard to get to where I was - put in so many hours - I couldn’t throw that away to go back to the small town where I’d grown up and feel useless just like he did.”

 

“Eventually, they accepted it,” Felicity sighed. “But they worry constantly. And, today, my mother made me promise I was being safe. They read the news from here. They know about The Hood and the crime that’s been steadily increasing. They’ve begged me to come home. Tonight, I realized that I have had a bomb strapped to my neck, watched two people die, and been tied up after having a crossbow held to my head in the past few months…how can I promise them I’m being safe?”

 

She looked at him then, eyes full of tears and sadness. She watched as he let out a long breath, looking down at his feet before meeting her gaze again. 

 

“Felcity. If you want to leave…”

 

“No,” she choked out, shaking her head, “No, I don’t. That’s the thing. I don’t want to stop. I like that I can help you. That you need my skills - that I’m being useful. And as much as you two can drive me crazy with your testosterone battles, I like working with you and Diggle.”

 

Oliver cracked a small smile at her words, and she responded with a sad one of her own.

 

“It just hit me tonight how much you have to lie to those around you,” she whispered, facing away from him again to look out over all the people who were blissfully unaware of the battle being waged for their city and their safety. “How do you do it, Oliver? How do you lie to the people you love the most?”

 

Felicity didn’t realize he’d moved until she felt his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down against her cardigan. His touch was soft yet firm, a gentle reminder that she wasn’t alone.

 

She could feel the heat of him against her back, not touching but close enough that if she let herself, her back would be against his chest.

 

“It’s one of the hardest things,” Oliver murmured against her ear, the timbre of his voice calming her frayed emotions. “Even when they are lies of omission…”

 

“So how do you stay sane? How do you not feel completely alone?” The questions fell out of her mouth, needing answers because she was slowly beginning to feel like she was on an island herself unable to tell anyone where she was going or what she was doing every night.

 

“I did at first,” he told her softly, “But I’m not alone anymore.”

 

She stilled, his words sweeping over and around her. He wasn’t alone…because he had her. He had Diggle. 

 

And she had them too.

 

“You’re not alone either, Felicity,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. “You know you can always come to me. Always. And, I know Diggle always loves some good conversation. He’s constantly complaining that I don’t talk enough.”

 

Her shoulders shook with her giggle, and slowly she let herself relax, the worry and pain seeping out of her. She let herself close the tiny gap between them, her back against Oliver’s broad chest.

 

His hands moved down to her forearms and he just held her, keeping her together as she’d done so many times for him. Her eyes fluttered shut and she inhaled deeply, breathing in the comfort and safety she felt in this moment. His cologne tickled her nose, and she could smell the hint of perspiration from his earlier work-outs. Usually, he showered before coming up to the club but she knew on occasion he would get so caught up in his training that he could lose complete track of time. He’d lived so long without any semblance of time, and she wondered how hard it really had been for him to re-adjust to civilization.

 

Of course, he hid his struggles well, but she knew he had them. She’d seen him in those moments where one look in his eyes told her a battle was raging on the inside - fighting against his island instincts of attack and survival. Felicity was amazed he was able to keep the two sides of himself together as well as he did, but she also knew at some point his lies would unravel. Three months ago she wouldn’t have been sure she’d be there to see it. But now she knew she’d be there to help sew him back together, stitch up the seams and mend the broken pieces. He’d become so important to her and despite her initial instinct to fight her feelings that continued to grow, she knew she couldn’t walk away from him now.

 

Her hands fidgeted by her sides before she finally made the decision and laid them over his arms. She squeezed, silently thanking him.

 

Her heartbeat quickened when she felt him press a soft kiss against her hair.

 

“I think you sell yourself short in the comfort department,” she mumbled, unable to keep quiet any longer, “You’re good at this. I haven’t felt this safe in…ages…and after what happened last night, this is perfect.”

 

She hadn’t realized what she’d admitted until she felt every muscle in his body turn to stone, frozen by her words.

 

Closing her eyes, she bit her lip, internally berating herself. She wasn’t going to tell him about that. It was over, done with. Despite the fact that she’d gotten a total of 2 hours of sleep because she kept waking up to the feeling of that creep’s hands on her and his breath against her face.

 

“Well, I really appreciate this, Oliver…” she tried to pretend she’d said nothing out of the ordinary, beginning to pull away from him and head toward the door. 

 

His hands tightened on her arms, not hurting, but enough to know she wasn’t going anywhere. Not that she really wanted to, but she knew that if she didn’t make a hasty retreat, she’d blurt out everything. And then she’d have a very angry Oliver on her hands.

 

“Felicity,” he warned, his voice strained. “What happened last night?”

 

It was obvious that he wasn’t going to let it go. The idea that he would was a pipe dream of her imagination. 

 

“Oliver,” she began, hating the weakness in her voice, but having the memories from her run-in last night gave her chills and she was trying to hold them in since he would feel them as he was still pressed up against her.

 

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, trying to lighten her voice. “Really. It’s done with. Over. Finito. I’m fine…”

 

Her voice cracked on the last word and she could feel him tense, calling her bluff. 

 

Oliver breathed in deep, and then she was being turned in his arms. She closed her eyes, knowing if she looked into his, she’d spill everything. 

 

“Felicity,” his voice was sharp and gravelly; patience running thin.

 

Without opening her eyes, she sucked in a breathe and it all tumbled out. “Fine. As I was leaving last night, some guy grabbed me in the parking lot.” Oliver inhaled sharply but she continued. “He caught me off guard, which I know you and Diggle have been trying to tell me I don’t pay enough attention to my surroundings, well, lesson learned. But, he didn’t get far…really. I’m pretty sure he was drunk and I used one of the self-defense moves you taught me and was able to get away.”

 

She opened her eyes then, staring at a fixed point on Oliver’s collar. “See, no harm done. I’m fine. He, on the other hand, should be walking a little funny today.”

 

Pushing a smile to her lips, she chanced a glance up into Oliver’s eyes and was shocked to see the emotions swimming within their depths. No longer were they their normal crystalline blue. They were darker and anger radiated from them. Not at her - of course. No, she could see that he was definitely upset with her, but his anger had a different target. Despite knowing all this, he was still intimidating beyond measure.

 

Releasing her arms, he backed away, a storm brewing within him. His fist clenched into balls at his sides and came down hard on the desk on the other side of the office.

 

She jumped at the noise, but said nothing. Felicity had seen him lose his temper enough to know he’d come back to her soon enough. He always did.

 

Oliver grasped the edge of the desk and she winced at the thought of it being turned upside down. But instead, he sagged against it, shoulders slumped in defeat.

 

Finally he turned back to her, running his hands through his hair. She had her arms clutched against her stomach, not because she was afraid of him, but because she was suddenly cold without his warmth at her back. She was ashamed that she’d let down her guard enough for someone to attack her. She’d let him down.

 

When he found her eyes, his gaze softened, taking in her appearance, and the way she was holding herself. That look was almost more than she could bear.

 

“Oliver…it’s my fault. You guys have told me hundreds of times that I need to be more aware. For some reason, I just let my guard down last night knowing it was your parking lot and…I don’t know…” She sagged, tears stinging at her eyes remembering the terror that had shot through her when rough hands had grabbed her and run up the front of her shirt.

 

She couldn’t stop the tremble that shook her small frame, and Oliver narrowed his eyes. She could see his thoughts flying, hear the questions that raced through his eyes, and she hoped he wouldn’t ask them.

 

“Felicity, it’s not your fault. But I need to know…how far…” he began and she shook her head.

 

“Oliver…don’t.” She pleaded, unable to keep her tears at bay and closing her eyes as they slipped down her cheeks.

 

She felt him in front of her in seconds, his arms winding around her like bands of steel, guaranteed to keep all the bad things out. She clutched his shirt at the waist, bunching the crisp material in her fingers and holding on tight.

 

He sighed against her, his hands running up and down her back and into her hair, massaging her scalp and neck. 

 

After a few minutes, she calmed, comforted by the safety she felt in his arms.

 

“Felicity, I know it’s hard, but I need to know,” he whispered against her hair. “This guy isn’t going to stop trying and we can stop him…”

 

She frowned against his shirt as his words sunk in. Of course, he would try again, to someone else - someone who didn’t happen to be trained by the vigilante or who was as inebriated as him.

 

“Oh!” she reeled back, shaking her head in disgust, “Why didn’t I think of that?!”

 

Oliver’s hands let her go as she began to pace, closing her eyes and trying to remember anything she could about her attacker.

 

The acrid smell of his breath, the feel of his dirty hands upon her, his sleeve getting caught on her belt…his sleeve! She stopped in her tracks, flashes of images coming back to her.

 

Her eyes were wide as realization dawned on her. She quickly turned to Oliver who was watching her with a mixture of pain and apprehension. 

 

“I think he works for you…”

 

Oliver’s head snapped up and he met her gaze, eyes blue steel. “Are you sure?”

 

“He was wearing a white shirt and green vest…his name tag…Neal…” she trailed off, heading to the computer.

 

Her fingers flew over the keys as she pulled up his payroll and did a search by first name. Three pictures popped up on her screen, and her stomach rolled when she saw the third man staring back at her. “Him,” she pointed, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

 

“Working tonight?” Oliver asked quickly, and she scrolled down, noting his schedule.

 

“Yup,” she managed, swallowing back her fear.

 

He was half-way to the door before she caught his hand, her eyes asking him questions she didn’t want to voice.

 

She knew that Neal was about to get a visit from The Hood, and not a pleasant one.

 

“You stay here. Don’t leave or open the door for anyone,” he told her quickly, and she was about to protest when he pinned her with a look that pleaded with her to do as she was told, just this once.

 

Felicity sagged but gave a slight nod of her head, and he was gone.

 

Almost two hours later, there was a knock on the door, and then it opened as Oliver slid inside. 

 

Felicity stood up quickly from her place on the couch and clasped her hands together in front of her as he watched for him to speak.

 

Their eyes met in the dimly lit room. She swallowed. “Is he…”

 

Oliver sighed running a hand over his face, knowing it had been smeared with green paint not long before. “He was delivered to the Starling City PD, with a note. Apparently, he’s has numerous charges filed against him in a nearby city…”

 

Felicity sagged backwards, plopping back against the soft couch cushions, a wave of exhaustion rushing over her. She pulled her knees close to her chest, resting her chin against them.

 

“He won’t be seeing daylight for a long time,” he whispered, crossing over to her. For the first time, she realized his white shirt was gone, a black t-shirt in it’s place. 

 

Oliver slid down beside her, and she turned her head so she was looking at him, her cheek against her knees. “Thank you,” she murmured. _For not killing him. For getting him off the streets. For being here._

 

He nodded his head in understanding, stretching his arm out against the back of the couch.

 

She smiled at the unspoken invitation and curled up against him. Oliver’s arms wrapped around her with ease. And she remembered the first time he’d offered comfort to her this way at her apartment. No longer did he hesitate or still when she pressed up against him. He sighed beneath her, and she laid her head against his shoulder, his heartbeat steady underneath her fingertips.

 

They didn’t talk during this time. They didn’t need to. This was all about comfort, about friendship, about not being alone.

 

But each time, he held her a little tighter, a little longer, and she became a little bolder as her hands moved - this time she traced patterns against the black of his shirt and over his heart. She pretended to not notice the rise in his heartbeat or the flutter of her stomach.

This was friendship. Nothing more. Comfort offered and received. But slowly she knew the line of friendship was being blurred into something more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on tumblr. The last part in the Somewhere Only We Know series. :)

In a little over a year and a half, Oliver Queen had become a permanent part of the Felicity’s world.  Rarely a day went by without interacting with him in some shape or form.  Over that time, their relationship had continued to grow.  That line between friendship and something more was becoming blurred beyond recognition.  The late nights and early mornings, the long talks and secret confessions, the easy banter and meaningful looks had only fueled the fire within her heart.

Each night she sent him out on another mission, she found herself becoming more and more desperate for him to come back in one piece.  There had been more that one moment when she’d had a flash of what her life would be like without Oliver in it anymore.  It was a world where she knew she would feel something missing.  

Even when their roles were reversed and she was the one out doing the field work while Oliver waited anxiously in the wings, she didn’t always worry about herself; she worried about him.  The tension between them whenever she ended up in danger (it happened more than she, or Oliver, would like when she was in the field) was palpable, filling the entire Foundry upon their return and sometimes for days afterward.  

Felicity would try to ease the tension with her ramblings, and, every once in awhile, his hovering got on her nerves to the point she would snap at him irritably.  Her annoyance usually never made him angry; until a night last week in which he snapped back at her.

_“I’m just trying to protect you.”  He had yelled, stalking around the computer table and putting his hands on the hard surface as he stared at her, eyes blazing._

_“We’re in the club, Oliver!  I’m not in danger, unless I’m in danger from you?”  She glared at him, refusing to back down._

_His reply shocked her.  “Maybe you are.”  But it wasn’t said with anger or malice.  Instead, his shoulders sagged with his confession, and when she opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, he gave her a look that pleaded with her to drop it while he turned and sulked back to his training area._

His comment still bothered her.  Why would he think he was a danger to her?  Besides the fact that he was a wanted vigilante, and she was a part of his team - technically an accomplice - although he’d never let her be caught in the crossfires if he was apprehended - she wasn’t in danger from him.  She knew he would never harm her.  It wasn’t even a worry in her mind anymore.  At one time, when she’d first learned his secret, she had wondered about it.  But all concerns had quickly been dashed as she learned the man he truly was underneath the bravado and playboy mask.  His heart was good despite all the evil he’d endured.  He lived in a world of grey, but his blood ran red with a passion for protecting his city.  He carried a burden too large for any man to handle on his own yet he shouldered it without complaints.  He was learning to ask for help; learning that he didn’t have to do everything on his own.  The nightmares and scars were reminders of a darkness that he kept trying to escape, and there had been a few instances where he had reached out a hand to her - in words and in actions - and she had held on tight, knowing he needed that touch - that reminder - of lightness and good.  

He’d gained more scars since returning from the island.  And she knew them all.  Felicity had helped Oliver bind his wounds more times than she should count.  

Except that she did keep count.  

127 times.  

Too many.  Far too many.

Not all of them were life-threatening.  Most were just flesh wounds.  With those, Felicity would clean them with an alcohol swab before applying a bandage, saying nothing, only the slight tremble of her fingers relaying her true feelings.  

Of the 127, 19 of them had left visible scars.  She knew the location of each one as well as their shape and size.  There were times when she mentally traced them as he worked out - even though not all of them were in sight.  They were her scars too.  She didn’t bear their mark - although she had collected scars of her own - but she remembered them; knew them by heart.  

She had stopped telling him to be careful after the first year.  Her eyes had done the talking since then.

Every night as he grabbed his bow and quiver, she would call out his name.  The look they shared was one of pleading and acknowledgement.  There would always be a flash of understanding in his gaze before he pulled up his hood and disappeared up the stairs.

Anymore, Oliver didn’t even bother going out when she wasn’t there.  He valued the intel that she could give him as he moved through the streets and buildings, tracking down the latest threat to Starling City.  Felicity usually stayed in the Foundry coordinating the efforts; Diggle on one line, Oliver on the other.  She liked to know where they both were at all times; that they were coming home safely.

It was all she could do some nights to not take the entire bottle of Tums as she waited for them to return.  

But this night had not been like that.  Oliver had told both Felicity and Diggle that he was going to be staying in; seeing to the club and tracking their newest threat with the GPS that Felicity had helped to put in his phone.

Felicity had worked for a few hours, running updates and cross-checking sources to gather more information before deciding to call it a night.  Diggle had left earlier, glad to be able to spend time with Carly and his nephew.  Oliver had walked her out to her car, and assured her that he was just going to go back in and shut down the club before leaving himself.

She’d collapsed into bed after a long, warm shower and had been asleep within minutes.  

When a noise woke her, she glanced at her alarm clock, squinting her eyes to see the blurry red letters without her glasses.

3:30 A.M.

The tapping noise came again and she bolted out of bed, eyes flying to the window.

She could make out a dark shadow on her window sill and her heart jumped to her throat as she fumbled for her glasses.  Finding them, she slipped them on and reached for the taser under her bed as she tried to make out the figure.

Just then, the shadow shifted and she caught a glimpse of green glinting in the dark.

Her eyes widened.  Oliver.  She rushed to the window and shoved it open, fear twisting inside of her, making it hard to breath.

“Oliver!” she gasped as he tumbled inside with a groan.  

She could see his face was smeared with green paint; eyes filled with pain and worry.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed as she quickly closed the window, shutting out the cold night air, and pulled the curtains together.  “You said you were leaving soon after me...”

Oliver winced under her intense gaze and the scolding tone in her voice, “Got a tip...it was a trap.”  

He moved to undo his quiver and he gasped in pain, grabbing his left shoulder.

Felicity was at his side in seconds, and could smell the cool night air upon him mixed with leather and spice.  She closed her eyes, breathing him in, letting herself take a moment to be thankful that he was alive despite being hurt.

“Where’s Diggle?” she wondered, frowning as she put an arm around his waist and lead him to the bed, gesturing for him to sit on the edge.

Oliver shook his head, “I didn’t want to bother him...”

Felicity froze, his words spiking anger to rise within her.  That anger mixed with the fear already present to become a painful throb in her chest.   Her hands flew to her hips, glaring at him.

“You didn’t even call Diggle?  You went out alone without either of us knowing where and when?”

Oliver bristled, blue eyes hardening.  “You know, I haven’t always had you two around.  I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, eyeing his wounded shoulder before returning her gaze to his face. “Right.  I can see that,” she quipped, heading to the bathroom without a backward glance to grab the supplies she needed.

He reached for her, knowing she was upset, but she twisted out of his grip.  Anger coursed through her.  Didn’t he know by now she worried about him constantly?  He’d become such a huge part of her life, she wasn’t sure what she would do if something actually happened to him.  

A year and a half she’d spent helping him, working with him side-by-side every night.  And over that time, her feelings for him had only grown.  She’d told herself after the first six months, she would only ever be his friend.  And, for awhile, that had been enough.  She knew he cared for her and would do anything to keep her safe and happy.  He’d proved that on more than one occasion.  

They’d become each other’s confidantes, showing up at each other’s doorsteps when their worries and fears became too much for them to handle.  Felicity remembered the first time he’d shown up at her door - the night McKenna had been shot - the way he’d fallen asleep on her couch.  She learned a lot about him that night.  He’d opened up to her, let her in beyond the part-time club owner, full-time vigilante, and into Oliver Queen, the man.  

He’d quickly become a constant in her life.  Someone she knew she could count on if she needed anything, regardless of the time or place.  He’d be there.  

They’d both dated other people, and she shoved down the envy that threatened to rise within her every time she saw someone new on his arm.  He wasn’t hers, she had reminded herself each time.  Even though she slowly realized she wished he was.  But there was no way she was going to tell him that.  No way she was going to put her heart on the line when she wasn’t sure if he would be there to protect it.  Felicity knew without a doubt that Oliver would protect her from anything and anyone who threatened her, but how could he protect her from himself?  The fear he wouldn’t fall was too much to risk.  So she said nothing, and watched the other women on his arm, telling herself their friendship was more than enough.

 _They don’t know the real him._   It was all she could help but think each time.  And they didn’t.  They knew the persona he kept up for everyone around him, not the truly broken man who was learning to put the pieces of his life back together one by one.  They only saw the billionaire playboy, not the shadow of a man with ghosts and scars that haunted his dreams and the shards of a five-year span that continued to cut into his life no matter how many times he tried to sweep them away.

It was times like tonight, when he would come back to her bruised and broken that she could barely contain her feelings.  The terror that rose up within her threatened to overtake her, the words she kept locked in her heart rushing to the surface.  If she lost him before she could tell him what he really meant to her...

But then again, she couldn’t risk ruining everything they had.  She wouldn’t give up her friendship with Oliver for the minimal chance that he might actually feel the same way about her.

That’s what she reminded herself each time the words threatened to spill out from deep within her heart.  

It’s what she reminded herself just then as she walked back toward him with her first aid kit, setting it gently on the bed beside him.

Felicity said nothing; she didn’t even try to meet his gaze, uncertain what she would do or say.  Her emotions were on rough seas.  She would worried one look from him and she would break against his shore and be laid bare in the sand at his feet.

Oliver had managed to remove his jacket and was in the process of trying to take off the t-shirt he wore underneath with little success.  Flipping on the light that sat on her bedside table, she reached out, covering his hands with her smaller ones and shooing them away.  Carefully, she tugged at the shirt, working it gently off one arm and then the next until she could pull it over his head.  He inhaled sharply but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the pain or her touch.

She felt the heat of his gaze upon her and finally allowed herself a peek at his face.  His eyes were clouded with pain, holding a weariness that she wasn’t used to seeing in him.  

Unable to pull her eyes away from his, she grabbed one of the warm wet cloths she’d brought with her and raised it to his face.  Grasping his chin with her thumb and forefinger, she began to wipe away the remaining traces of green paint.  Her strokes were slow and methodical, unsure if he had any wounds to his face that she couldn’t see.

His stubble was rough beneath her fingers, and she could tell he hadn’t even attempted to trim it for a few days.  

She watched in awe as his eyes closed under her ministrations, a rare act of vulnerability  he showed only to a select few.  

Wiping at the last smear of paint, she laid the cloth on the bedside table.  She waited a moment for him to open his eyes.  When he didn’t, she frowned.  Using her hand that was still holding his chin, she slid her fingers up the side of his jaw, opening her palm to the fullness of his cheek, feeling the whisper of his breath upon her wrist as he sighed.

Her heart fluttered when she felt him press his face against her hand, the gesture intimate in nature.  She almost jumped when his large hand covered hers, trapping her fingers against the warmth of his cheek.

Felicity bit her lip as affection and so much more swelled up inside of her.  Those words she’d worked so hard to shove down deep inside were climbing up in her throat, wanting to be heard.

Swallowing thickly, she managed his name.  “Oliver...”

His eyes opened then, and she noticed the myriad of emotions that swam within their depths, things she’d only dreamed of seeing when he looked at her.

Sure she was seeing things, she shook her head and pulled her hand free from his.

“Your...your back,” she mumbled, quickly standing and moving to the other side of him.  

Climbing back on the bed, she settled down and winced when she saw the knife wound high on his shoulder.  It cut right through the tattoo of the dragon that he hadn’t yet told her about.  He was slowly opening up about his past.  He’d told her a few of the stories behind his scars, but not all of them.  And she didn’t push him.

Grabbing the gauze, she poured alcohol onto it and then swabbed it across his back.  She watched as his muscles tensed, contracting at the sting, and then relaxing a few moments later.  She repeated this process until she was satisfied that the wound was clean.  It didn’t look deep enough to need stitches, so instead she applied steri-strips along it to hold the skin together as it healed.  Picking up another piece of gauze, she cut it to fit over the wound and protect it, applying it with medical tape.

With a sigh, she leaned back to look at her work, mostly satisfied, but she was definitely going to have Diggle look at it in the morning.  He had more medical training than she, and she would feel better getting the okay from him.

Oliver didn’t move, even after she finished.  He sat as still as a statue in front of her, head bowed slightly, breathing steadily in and out.

For a moment, Felicity thought he might have fallen asleep, but the slight twitch in his back muscles as she ran her fingers against his spine told her he was still awake.

She took this time to gather her thoughts.  He rarely showed up at her place when he was hurt.  In fact, most times, he wouldn’t have gone out without letting Diggle or her know he was going in the first place.   This whole situation didn’t sit well with her.

He could have been badly hurt or killed and she wouldn’t have known until she woke up and saw it on the news.

That idea sent a shiver down her spine and she shuddered at the panic that gripped her.  Between the anger and the fear, a new feeling pushed it’s way to the surface - desperation.  

Suddenly, she needed to convince herself that he was real and alive in front of her.  Those images of her life without him in it were flashing through her head and she couldn’t shake them out. 

Hesitantly, she splayed her hand against the solid expanse of his back.  The touch calmed her racing thoughts; feeling him very much solid and alive.  Her fingers twitched, contracting slightly, as she tried to hold herself together.

He tensed under her intimate touch, but it was only for a moment, and then she felt his muscles relax again.  A long, slow breath shook his shoulders and back.

She traced one of his scars beneath her fingers and another wave of emotion crashed around her.   This time, it pulled her under it’s current until she felt as if she was drowning.  A strangled breath escaped her lips as tears flooded her eyes.  Clamping them shut, she leaned forward, letting her forehead come to rest between his shoulder blades.  Her free arm left her side and wrapped around his waist, needing the support, the comfort of knowing he was really there.

She felt a shudder run through his body, and she let herself wonder about it for a moment.  Perhaps she wasn’t the only feeling all these emotions...

Maybe that’s what she had seen flashing through his eyes earlier.  Maybe she hadn’t been seeing things.  Maybe those he longed for her as she did for him...And that’s what that emotion had been that she hadn’t been able to place when she’d seen it in his eyes.  Longing.

It was an emotion she’d seen in Oliver before, but never directed at her and never with such intensity.  

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt him cover her hand with his own.  He laced their fingers together, squeezing tight, and that’s when she let her last inhibitions go.

Letting out a gasping breath she pressed a soft kiss against his back, enjoying the feel of his skin beneath her lips.

The groan that escaped him caused her to blush, and she slip her other hand from his back down around his side.

“Felicity.”  Her name was a murmur in the quietness of the room, but the heart-wrenching way it was said had the tears falling from her eyes.

“Why didn’t you call us?” she suddenly lashed out, face still pressed against his back, “I know you did this before without us...but...it’s different now.”

She gasped in a breath.

“You’re not alone anymore.  You have people who care about you...who...” Her voice cracked but the unspoken word was loud in the room.

Before she knew what was happening, she was being pulled by strong arms and placed in front of him, her legs straddling him on the bed.  Her breathing was harsh from the emotions that were spilling out of her.

Their eyes met and her breath got caught in her throat at what she saw in them.

“You’re right,” he finally admitted, voice tired and worn.  “I forget sometimes that I have people who care...who...” he trailed off, mimicking her words.

Had it been any other situation she would have thought he was teasing her, but the look in his eyes told her otherwise.  They were dancing around that word even though the tension was thick around them.

Felicity swallowed, reaching out her hand and placing it over his chest where she could feel his heart beat strongly underneath her fingertips.  She watched in awe as his eyes darkened at her touch.

Something about the way he was looking at her reminded her of the words he had spoken so many nights ago.

_Maybe you are..._

“Why would I be in danger from you?” she asked quietly, eyes never leaving his.

At first, she could see his confusion at her sudden change of topic, but then recognition bloomed.

“You would never hurt me,” Felicity added.  “I know that.”

She felt his hands tighten on her hips, her tank top riding up so she could feel the full heat of his skin on her own.  Her body ached for his fingers to move further up under her top.

Oliver’s eyes fluttered closed and his head dropped forward.  She could feel the tension her question had wrought within his body.  But she still didn’t understand why.

After a few moments, she was beginning to think he wasn’t going to tell her.  And, her boldness was wearing off.  Resigning herself to the fact that he wasn’t going to talk anymore, she tried to shimmy off his lap, but his fingers tightened their hold and his head shot up.

“Just forget I asked Oliver,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze, “I’ll go get you some water and you can stay here tonight.  Forget I asked which shouldn’t be too hard because I say so much that really, you can’t remember everything anyway...”

“Felicity,” his voice pulled her from her breakaway thoughts, and she looked back at him.

She watched as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he spoke.  “You are in danger from me,” he confessed, eyes full of regret.

Her brow wrinkled and she shook her head, “How?!”

Oliver took a short deep breath as he stared at her, and she saw the conflict raging within him.  The things she saw made her heart beat faster, each breath coming out more and more haltingly as the air around them seemed to crackle with electricity.  

Unable to take it any longer, she started to open her mouth but before she could speak, his lips were covering hers.  Felicity gasped into the kiss, startled by the ferver with which he kissed her.  But she quickly recovered and responded fiercely, pouring every emotion she felt for him into the kiss.  His hands roved up her back, under her shirt, scalding the skin they touched.  She slid her hands into his hair and back to his shoulders to steady herself.  Her body was pressed flush against him, and she could feel every inch of him through her thin pajamas.  Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions and she grasped onto him to ground her as he tugged her bottom lip into his mouth.

When he finally pulled back, her eyes fluttered open to gaze at him in wonder.  Their breathing harsh in the silence of the room as they both tried to catch their breath.

“That’s how you’re in danger from me,” he rasped, his hands splayed against her back, the heat sending sparks up and down her body.  “Because every time I see you, I want to do that.”

Felicity felt as if her heart was going to erupt with happiness.  A slow smile spread across her face, and she chuckled.  “I don’t see the danger in that.”

Oliver sighed in exasperation, his body still on edge beneath her.  “Anyone who’s with me is in danger,” he growled.  “Anyone I care about...anyone I _love_...they are all in danger.  I put you in danger by feeling this way about you.”

Felicity stilled in his arms, and she was sure her heart skipped a beat.  Tears blurred her vision and she quickly blinked them away.

“You...you love me?” she shook her head, not believing what she just heard.

Oliver chuckled, a smile tugging his lips upward, “That kiss didn’t answer that question for you?”

She swatted at him, but he caught her hand, and pulled her close, so his mouth was against her ear.  “You have no idea how much...”

Felicity closed her eyes, a smile spreading on her lips, as the realization of his words hit her full force.  

“I love you too.”  Those words finally tumbled out of her mouth, and saying them aloud lifted a weight from her heart.

He rested his forehead against hers, and she could feel the rapid beat of his heart.  

“You can’t shove me away because you’re afraid,” she finally managed to whisper, opening her eyes and gazing into his. 

He frowned, wrinkles appearing in his forehead.  She smoothed them with her fingers before continuing.  “I’ve already been in danger.  The moment I started working with you, I’ve technically been in danger.  Well, I guess you could really say I’ve been in danger my whole life.  Who hasn’t?  I mean, the world is dangerous...”

“Felicity,” he mumbled, giving her a knowing look and she realized she had gotten off track.

She shook her head, “Right...the point is, I’m already in danger, but being with you - that makes me feel safe.”

Oliver’s gaze softened, and she watched him intently as her words sunk in.   

“So don’t push me away...” She began to warn him when he cut her off, smiling as he pulled her to him again, lips covering hers and cutting off whatever she was about to say.

Her hands cupped his face and she gasped when he slid his tongue along her lips begging for entrance.  She complied and moaned as he explored the recesses of her mouth while his hands explored the smooth skin underneath her shirt.

Every inch of her craved him and she held him tightly to her, afraid that if she let him go, he’d disappear and she’d wake up in her bed alone.

Her hands roamed his body, feeling the scars beneath her fingertips.  He pressed open-mouth kisses to her throat and she hummed in approval as her hands ran up his arms and over his shoulders.

She felt him grimace the second she accidentally bumped his new wound, and she jumped back, her body immediately missing the feel of his lips.

“Oh!” she cried, “I forgot...”

Oliver smiled and shook his head.  “I’m fine, Felicity,” he assured her and dragged her close again placing one more kiss against her lips before she pulled back and shimmied off his lap.

“No, you need to rest,” she told him, noticing for the first time, the bruises that were beginning to appear on his right side.  They weren’t deep or dark enough to be too worrisome, but she’d make sure to keep an eye on them.  

Gathering the discarded first aid kit, she pulled in a deep breath to try and calm herself since her body was still reeling from his touch.   

“You can sleep here,” she murmured, motioning to the bed.  “The couch isn’t comfortable enough...and I’m not going to hear any arguments on it.”

She smiled when he didn’t fight her, and hurried to the bathroom.

When she had put everything away, she returned to her bedroom to find Oliver laying on his back, eyes closed.  Quietly, she turned off the light and crossed to the other side of the bed.  She’d contemplated taking her comforter and staying on the couch, but she knew that she wouldn’t get any sleep there.  She wanted to be near him.

Lying down beside him, she pulled the covers up to her chin, suddenly cold without his arms around her.  Quietly, she shifted closer to him, her eyes glancing over his still form, only his chest rising and falling.  

She allowed herself to think back over the past hour and the revelations it had brought to their relationship.  

She loved this man.  She knew that with all her heart.  She loved every part of him - broken or whole or pieced back together.  She loved him.  

And he loved her.  Felicity smiled giddily in the darkness, happiness settling within her heart.

Turning on her side, she curled up beside him, facing the window, allowing his breathing to lull her to sleep.

A few moments later, she felt him shift closer to her, his arm coming around her body as he pulled her against him.  He buried his face against her hair and breathed deeply.

“Night, ‘Licity,” he murmured softly.

Felicity snuggled back within the cocoon of his arms and smiled, feeling safe and loved.  “Night, Oliver.”

That line between friendship and something more was no longer blurred, it had been completely erased because friendship had grown into love.


End file.
